Bittersweet: Eighteen Moments
by Shiori-tan
Summary: 18 different one-shots/drabbles of 18 different pairings, all featuring Hibari and all centering around the theme 'bittersweet'. Two: 1827. "Smiling, frowning, laughing, sobbing, yelling, and still they fail to understand each other."
1. D18: Don't Stop

**Summary: Hibari doesn't know when it starts, but when it does, he knows, they both know, it must stop.**

**Pairing: D18**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: Shonen-ai, light innuendos but nothing too bad.**

**A/N: Hi. On holiday right now, but that's what a iPad is for, I guess. As for why I am not updating my other fic, I left my story outline in my laptop. Gomenasai *bows***

**This will be a series of 18 one shots or drabbles of 18 different pairings featuring Hibari, centering around the theme 'bittersweet'. If you can't already tell from the theme, all of them will contain angst to varying degrees. Also look out for crack-ish pairings in the future as I rack my brains for more pairings to hit the 18 mark.**

**Late D18 day fic...but only by one day? Anyway, enjoy! :D**

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_**Bittersweet: Don't Stop**_

Hibari doesn't know when it starts, but when it does, he knows, they both know, that it must stop.

Soft lips brush against chapped ones, gently, briefly. Fingers are intertwined, smooth silk against the rough fabric of his suit jacket. He can feel the edge of the wooden desk pressing against his lower back, a pesky nuisance that he would rather get rid of if not for the..._distractions_ a certain herbivore is providing.

Dino breaks the kiss and tilts his head, pressing their foreheads together, wavy gold mingling with coarse ebony. An amused smile graces his lips as he gazes into admonishing grey eyes.

"Keep on doing this,herbivore, and I absolve all responsibility for future consequences."

Dino's smile only gets wider, and he chuckles lightly. "If I was at all worried in the least, I would never have started this in the first place." He's lying, they both know he's lying, but he leans in for another kiss anyway, and Hibari closes his eyes, parts his lips slightly.

The doors are locked, windows shut, curtains drawn.

* * *

He is furious, utterly, absolutely infuriated. A tea cup has been shattered, shards of porcelain decorating beige tatami mats. A coffee table has been smashed into pieces, dark wood splintered and cracked. Formerly neat piles of paperwork lie carelessly strewn all over the floor, but he cannot bring himself to care about those hundreds of pieces of paper, only this certain one that he is clutching, crushing in his hand right now.

"Three years," he snarls, his fists tightening. "Three. Goddamn. Bloody. Years. And you think you can just fucking end it all with a piece of freaking cream stationery?"

"Kyoya-"

"Or am I supposed to think that the custom gold embossed font makes up for it? The lavender scented envelope?"

"Kyoya, I'm-"

"You know what? Screw it all. Screw you. You can take this invitation and shove it up your fucking herbivorous ass because like hell I give a damn." A sleek silver cell phone is thrown down on the remains of what used to be a perfectly wonderful coffee table, before his arm swings and metal meets metal with a resounding crack and the cell phone joins the long list of victimised inanimate objects already bitten to death.

His arm falls to his side, tonfa stilgrasped tightly like a lifeline. In his other hand he holds the paper, crushed and torn, but the word are still visible.

He drops it to the ground and stomps on it with his foot, but said custom gold embossed font is still very very legible, the words he would rather forget printed on it as clear as day.

_You are cordially invited to the wedding ceremony of_

_Don Dino Cavallone_

_and_

_Signora Pantera Tomaso_

_On May the Fifth, 20XX, at the Cavallone Mansion in Sicily._

He swears the characters are mocking him, and the normally logical Cloud seriously considers setting the whole building on fire just to get rid of the letter once and for all.

Not that that would change anything much. Just more paperwork for Kusakabe to cry over.

A shrill sound pierces the air, and he promises to himself that he would ask Kusakabe to unplug all the phones and destroy the landline immediately.

"What, herbivore? Decided my birthday was too inconvenient a date for you?"

"...I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry, Kyoya."

The grip on his tonfas tighten even further, and he closes his eyes. "And?" he asks, his tone conveying annoyance, his emotions anything but.

_What do you want me to do?_

"I'm not a herbivore. Were you expecting me to start crying or something?"

Dino has the guts to laugh weakly. "Says the one who went on a murderous rampage all of one minute ago." His voice trails, laugh petering off abruptly.

"I'm sorry."

"And? What do you want me to do?" _What do you want me to say?_

"...nothing. Do nothing." _There is nothing to be said._

The cream paper is fluttering away slowly, blown across the room by the wind. Hibari grits his teeth. "You're a coward. A bloody fool." _Why is it like this?_

"I know."_I don't. I don't know anything._

He feels as if he is drowning in the silence. His lifeline clatters to the ground.

* * *

The wedding is grand, as befits the Cavallone Family. Hibari calculates that if he were to get out his box weapon now, Sawada Tsunayoshi would be paying about two hundred million euros in damages, not inclusive of medical fees and dry cleaning bills.

He settles for leisurely bending gold-plated dessert spoons in a corner of the ballroom.

He can see everything clearly from where he is sitting, shadowed by a thick, nondescript velvet curtain. He sees the bride, vaguely familiar, with dark curls elaborately styled, embroidered ivory silk pooling around her feet. He sees Dino himself, dressed in a fine black suit, smiling and greeting guests, looking the part of a happy groom. The purple orchid pinned on his lapel matches the ones in the girl's bouquet.

He calmly twists a spoon beyond recognition and drops it into the growing pile.

Their eyes meet only once throughout the five hour ceremony. Dino turns around unexpectedly, and Hibari has no time to look away. Their eyes lock momentarily, a few brief seconds of clashing grey and brown. Dino smiles sadly, ruefully, and Hibari quickly averts his gaze.

He leaves the mansion immediately after.

* * *

Dino wonders, vaguely, what would happen if they are caught. He knows for a fact that Pantera had acquired a skeleton key the week after she moved in. If she were to ever feel the need to walk into his study at any second of the day, she could easily do so.

It is not like before; they cannot lose themselves in the moment like they used to. Their ears are keenly looking out for footsteps, and both are careful not to make a sound.

Dino wonders, vaguely, whether what they are doing now is worth the repercussions that are sure to come eventually. He wonders if they should stop.

But then he looks into those cerulean-grey eyes; feels the long, callused fingers intertwined with his; hears the soft sound of breath hitching; tastes those lips, sweet and bitter and it is so, so, worth it, everything is, and he won't stop, can't stop, not for the world.

He hears the sound of footsteps approaching, and they both freeze for a second, before it passes and a door down the corridor closes with a click.

Grey eyes have regained their admonishing look, but Dino just shrugs and smiles sheepishly.

The doors are locked, windows shut, curtains drawn, and there is a bittersweet scent lingering in the air, but they won't stop, will continue living, until the inevitable conclusion is reached.

**_Fin._**

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**Next: 1827. "It is a smile, a laugh, a sob, a yell, a voice."**


	2. 1827: Mutual Understanding

**Summary: Smiling, frowning, laughing, sobbing, yelling, and still they fail to understand each other. **

**Pairing: 1827 **

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: OOCish, shonen-ai. The author herself doesn't even know what this turned out to be. Plus, it is half an hour past midnight in a foreign country as she types this. You have been warned. **

**A/N: Short fic is short. And really plotless. And like the previous one, Hibari is kind of OOC but I try, I try. And I'm gonna do all the really popular pairings first before going on to the less written ones (I have plans for a X18) so I hope you continue reading! **

**Disclaimer: Amano owns KHR. Not me. I only own these eye bags.**

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**_Bittersweet: Mutual Understanding_  
**

"Kyoya-san."

It is a soft smile, the type which he hates in particular. Kindness, understanding, patience, but he can only see the arrogance, the condescension. It is why he never smiles, because to smile is to pity, is to empathize, is to put the recipient on the same level as oneself, and he would never admit to being equals, not to anyone, not ever. To look down on him like that is to die a painful death (but the loyal silver puppy at the herbivores' side is bothersome, so he let's it go).

"Kyoya-san!"

It is a slight frown, more petulant than angry, and childishly so at that. He can't help but to smirk inwardly at his expression, because he knew they both knew that no one was convincing anyone with that sort of frown, but frown he did anyway. It is something he himself finds hard to relate to, because if you want to convince someone, you _convince _someone, and beat them up if they don't give in, not act like a five year old brat. But then he sees mafioso after mafioso tripping over themselves in apology just with that one little downturn of the lips, and he feels somewhat annoyed (and no, he was not jealous, for Christ's sake. Shut up, Mukuro).

"Kyoy-pffft."

It is a sweet laugh, a pleasant laugh, and he would liken it to the tinkling of bells, to birds chirping, if only he was the poetic sort of person. As it is, he would really like to just bite the herbivore to death for laughing in this situation, but the thought is at the back of his mind, and his surroundings is filled with chaos and the sole coherent thought at the forefront of his brain is that once found, a certain pineapple herbivore would not only be bitten to death, but also thoroughly strangled, beheaded, disemboweled, skewered, barbecued and put through one hell of a large paper shredder. "Hibari Kyoya does _not _appreciate illusions of him wearing a frilly bubblegum pink pineapple apron and little else" is a lesson that does not come easy, and he never accepts half-assed students.

"K-kyoya-san-"

It is a choked back sob, one which should not have seen the light of day, not from this herbivore, especially not from him. And he cannot help but feel somewhat disgusted, because tears embody selfishness;enough selfishness to flaunt your weakness, your hurt to the world. Because tears shown to others are burdens for them to carry, reasons for them to feel unwanted sympathy, tarnishes to the immaculate innocence of a world where pain and hurt are cordoned off in a small corner of one's conscience left for funerals and counselors' offices. Because he does not want to _sympathise_, does not want to feel. Because he does not need to be reminded that in this sancutary of his where herbivores and carnivores are distinctly separated and pain is a foreign object only known to the former, he might be the most naive of all. So he walks away, leaving a crying boy hurt and confused in his wake, and taking with him an innocence long distorted, weathered and beaten down, again and again by time and blood.

"_Kyoya-san!"_

It is a yell of anger that makes him feel a slight sense of surprise. The boy has expressed fear, joy, a little sadness, a tinge of hope. But never anger. To add to that, this is the one whom he has always considered an exemplary example of a model herbivore, so perhaps surprise is an understatement. Surprise, and an almost obstinate feeling of disappointment, like discovering Dad was the one leaving money under your pillow all along, and that the tooth fairy never existed. Why disappointment, he does not know. Rather, he does not need to know, he assures himself as the tonfas come out, purple clashing against a vibrant orange.

"Kyoya-san..."

It is a voice yet clear, one of mixed emotions. It tells him, I understand. That this isn't perfect. That it never will be. That the sadness, the fear, the anger will all remain, will return twofold, threefold. That you bewilder me, and I frighten you. That we disappoint each other. That we are vastly different, and mutual understanding is a goal that can never be reached. That this bittersweet aftertaste is sometimes much more bitter than sweet.

I understand. That despite all this, we live. That the smiles, the laughs, the occasional blushes do not make up for it all, but some advantages are better than none at all. That you hate optimists, but ultimately all of us are guilty of it (at least, we both are).

That I love you, and although it might not change a thing, I will continue saying it.

That though it may not seem so, you really do love me too.

That at the end of it all, we will be toppled over and conquered by this relationship, left bruised and bloody and robbed of our naïvety, but we will most definitely see it through.

We'll see it through together.

* * *

It is a smile, a frown, a sob, a yell.

A voice so soft it deafens.

A person so dazzlingly bright he could not hope to spot.

_**Fin.**_

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**Next: 6918. "They didn't realize it, but he was there, watching it all unfold splendidly."**


End file.
